She Bites
by ElectrikBluez
Summary: Dean Winchester seems to be the exception of a lot of rules, but he never expected this one. Torn apart after Cas suddenly disappears, he ends up in the South where a woman catches his eye (big shocker). But she's more than good looks and he finds out pretty quickly that appearances can be deceiving. ::FamiliarFic::
1. Chapter 1

_**Yeah, this one is a little out there but I just love the concept of familiars in any universe. Hope you all enjoy and remember to review. This veers off into an extreme AU after episode** 8 **of season** 10 **. You'll see. Remember to review, please.**_

* * *

He doesn't know where he is, but it sucks.

It's hot and humid and he hates every minute of it, but he had to be there for a reason because he may have been in shambles but he definitely would have not picked Hicksville.

"Need anythin' else, lemme know," okay, so the waitress isn't so bad.

He smiles at her a little but he's more invested in this magnificent burger. He sets it down whenever the waitress walks off and chews slowly, looking out the window. He'd been basically on the run for three weeks, confused and hopelessly trying to find Castiel.

He jumped a little and dropped the fry in his hand when the phone buzzed over the table top. He wiped his hands on the napkin beside him and plucked up the phone, pausing when he saw Sam's name over the screen; he shut it and went back to his meal.

 _"He was compromised."_

Dean wondered if Cas was talking about Samandriel or himself. After he said that, Cas disappeared and since he wasn't responding...to be honest, Dean was a little lost. It was like losing his brother, he couldn't...he couldn't handle it.

"Feelings are gross," he mumbled, plucking up another fry.

Dean munches on the fry even as an uneasy feeling builds in his gut. He knows the feeling all too well - someone is watching him.

"Seriously?" He muttered under his breath and did a quick sweep of the diner.

Place wasn't really busy, even though it was lunch time. Just a middle aged woman with a toddler and what looked to be a ten year old, both girls. There was an older man in the corner with another young woman, most likely his granddaughter. There were about three other people scattered about, but they all had their eyes down on their meals or - in one mans case - papers.

Well, it wasn't anyone in here.

Dean looked up as the feeling grew, eyes flickering to the tree line in the opposite side of the broken road outside the window. Spots? He blinked and the image was gone, replaced by leaves aging from the heat and the faint patter of moisture from the humidity.

"That's it," he looked around. "I'm losing my fucking mind."

"Excuse me?"

Dean jumps, looking up at the waitress who has his refill. "Uh," he shakes his head with a small smile. "Nothing, thank you."

She bobs her head once and trails off back to the kitchen, calling out another order. Dean almost goes back to his meal, almost, but he sees this woman and he just...

"Sweet mother of Jesus," he keeps his head down, watching her strut her sweet ass to the other side of the restaurant.

She was dressed in jeans and a gold/black plaid shirt, a white tank underneath and black boots, dark hair framing her face in straight locks and squared bangs. A treasure, plunking her ass down in that chair like a throne.

"Heaven help me." Dean mumbled and bit into his burger.

He looked up still chewing only to find the woman watching him - intently - from her seat nearby. Dean swallowed slowly and took a sip of his drink.

"Can I help you?" He asked finally.

"No," she shook her head; there was a small braid tucked under her hair on the right side of her face. "But I can help _you_ ," she pointed at him.

He raised an eyebrow, swallowing his food slowly, then sucked in air between his teeth. "How so?"

She smiled a little, strumming her fingers on the table top; when had she gotten so close? An unsettling coil tightened in his gut and his fingers on his left hand twitched against his thigh.

"Dean Winchester," she almost purred. "I've...spent a lot of time looking for you, ya know?"

Okay, unsettling feeling multiplied.

"Ya know, the stalker visage doesn't really do well for you," he leaned back in his chair. "What do you want?"

She seemed to hesitate but then she's let out an airy sigh. "Hot here, isn't it?"

"Sure." Dean said lamely.

He could've sworn she had slit pupils, like a cat or something. And he sneezed, feeling a new tickle in his nose; did someone have a cat?

"I really am losing my mind." He muttered and ran a hand through his hair.

"You're not actually." The woman said and slid into the booth opposite gave him this funny look.

"I'm not what?" Dean asked, eyes narrowing.

"Losing your mind." the woman replied matter of factly and looked up at him.

"And how am I not," he felt her knee brush against his and tensed.

She grinned a little; were her teeth pointy? "Been seein' things, huh? And don't you dare say you don't know what I'm talking about."

He clamped his mouth shut and watched her for a moment. She watched him patiently with those strange eyes of her and he had this strange feeling aside how fucking gorgeous she was.

"And what if I have?" He questioned, raising an eyebrow at her.

His burger was getting cold, and so were his fries. Damn it! She leaned forward. "Then I'd be pretty disappointed," she flicked a small, silver bead at the end of her braid and he couldn't take his eyes off of it. "Come on, we're gonna take a drive."

He looked helplessly at his burger and fries as she tried to drag him away from the table; she chuckled and plucked up the red basket, carrying it in her free hand.

She bumped open the door with her hip. "You drive, hon'. And I'll hold onto the food."

He hesitated then nodded, shaking off her hand and walking around to the drivers seat. He started the car, watching her knock her boots together to get off the sand and he liked her instantly more.

"What," she asked, arching an eyebrow at him. "I know a nice car when I see one." She folded her legs in and shut the door, smoothing out her shirt.

"So," Dean started. "Where in the hell are we going exactly?"

She grinned at him, it was like the Cheshire Cat. "Just drive North. I'll tell you what to do from there."

He cocked his head a little but did as she said, looking down at the gun tucked against the drivers side door; she made one wrong move, he blew her away. One minute she was the hottest thing on Earth and now...she was a blank slate. He felt nothing for her right now, not even indifference.

She bobbed her leg for a moment, eyes reflecting the damp trees that rolled past them. She looked over at Dean and smiled, almost like a child does to their mother or father.

"You know you're creepy," Dean paused, looking forward again. "Right?"

She chuckled. "I get that alot," her head snapped forward, nose twitching; Dean couldn't help but be a little concerned about that. "Turn left up here."

Dean turned the wheel, wincing as Baby bumped and jarred over the uneven road. "This is so not good for the suspension," he grumbled and glared the woman.

But she didn't seem to notice his displeasure. She was gazing out the window, watching the foliage fly by.

"A right up ahead and then about a quarter mile straight after that." She said absent-mindedly.

"Yes ma'am." Dean muttered and turned.

Where the hell was she taking him?

"Okay, stop," she held up a hand and he eased down on the brakes. "Come on out with me."

Dean whined a little but she was gone before he could deny it. He hesitated and then plucked up the basket of food, frowning as he shut the drivers door; his fries were cold. He followed behind her as she basically skipped along, brushing apart the dipping branches and moss.

"Sweetheart," Dean wiped off his fingers on his jeans. "As much as I enjoy this little stroll, I would love to know where we're goin'."

She smiled over his shoulder and held a finger to her lips. "Almost...there," she dropped.

Dean's eyes widened and he hurried forward, stumbling when he saw the trench she was fumbling around in. There was a sleeping bag tucked under dangling roots and a plastic bag filled with clothes.

"What the -?" Dean barked. "Do you live here?" He asked.

"Yeah," she snapped, wrapping her arms around herself in self consciousness "What about it," her eyes were defensive, almost predatory.

"Well-Nothing. Never mind," he stumbled over the words.

He rubbed the back of his neck, looking around in embarrassment. Okay, maybe he shouldn't have said anything.

She cooled instantly then looked around, waving her arms. "This is the place," she smacked her thighs with her hands and smiled warmly at him. "But I didn't bring you here to admire my decorating."

He chuckled and licked his lips. "Well," he gestured to himself. "I'm here, so what is it," he paused. "And if you try anything -"

"You'll blow my brains out," he arched an eyebrow and she grinned. "I know you, Dean Winchester. I know, even if you wanted to - and you won't - you wouldn't harm me."

"Wanna bet," he rumbled, getting that uneasy feeling again.

Her grin softened to a half smile and she stepped closer to him, steps slowly and deliberate. "I don't need to," she was close now, he could feel her body heat. "You. Wont. Hurt. Me."

His eyes widened again and, unfortunately, he dropped his food. But she was too close and all he could think of was the way she smelled - like dirt and some old perfume - and the way her eyes seemed to shift to a golden color.

"Alright," he mumbled/stuttered, looking down at her hands that were lingering near his chest.

She chuckled and he was pretty damn sure her eyes were golden down, the pupil gently slit like...like a cats. He prickled and pushed her back, watching her stumble and - was that a fucking tail?

"What the hell are you," he growled, pulling out his gun and pointing it at her.

"Take a guess." She half-growled as she landed on her side.

Her clothes were fading and Dean raised an eyebrow at the exposed flesh of her thighs and breasts. Before he could become more interested, spots seemed to color her skin, fur was beginning to sprout on her throat.

"What the actual fuck?!" Dean shouted and began to back away. "What the hell are you?!"

She didn't answer him, she just growled; the look she gave him said she felt bad. Her jaw popped out a few inches, nose flattening and whiskers sprouting beneath her skin. Teeth grew elongated and stained, neck thickening and the spotted pelt grew over her entire body.

"I died," Dean mumbled. "That's it - I died and I'm in hell where smoking hot women turn into monsters - or I got drugged," both seemed very real possibilities.

Where once stood a woman was now a very large jaguar that shook its head and whined. Claws stirred up soil and her tail flicked back and forth, golden eyes fixated on Dean.

"Sweet Jesus." Dean breathed and back away, gun aimed at the jaguar's head.

 _'Please...scared...not...hurt...you.'_

There was a voice in his head.

Great.

"Shut up. Just shut up." Dean barked, and scrubbed a hand over his face. "Why me? Why is it always me?"

Always! Fucking always! Dean ran a hand back over his hair and then stumbled back another step when the jaguar began to approach him. Her ears flattened back on her skull and whined, slinking towards him when a perfect tree happened to block his path.

He wanted to pull the trigger, he really did, but he just couldn't. No matter how much effort he tried to put against that trigger, he just...couldn't.

He let out a defeated breath and dropped his arm, sinking down to the forest floor, legs splayed out on either side of the jaguar as she stopped between them.

"Kill me already," he looked up from under his brow. "Just fucking kill me."

Did he _really_ wanna die? Maybe...just maybe. Maybe that was why he followed her out here, it would explain a lot.

She whined and plopped down in front of him, her head lolling sideways against his left thigh. _"Familiar..."_

He froze, brow furrowing. "Wait, wait, wait," he looked up fully. "A familiar...those are only for witches."

Her tongue ran over her black lips. _"No."_

He hesitated, needing more answers. He massaged the bridge of his nose, and went slack against the tree. "Of course," he looked down at her again. "Got a name?"

 _"Nalah."_


	2. Chapter 2

It'd been days since Sam last heard from Dean, his GPS tracker had led Sam down to a rural town in Mississippi. Why Dean would come here, Sam had no idea, it was far from anyone or anything familiar. There were no Hunters to talk to...

He was looking for Cas.

Sam purses his lips, leaning back on the little hooptie car he had stolen a few miles back; the bus just had _no_ appeal to him. His eyes watched the numbers click away as gas poured into the tank, his hands shoved into his pockets. The air was getting colder, it was almost winter; Sam sighed thankfully for that, but the temperature was still hitting mid seventies and the humidity was thick.

He jumped when there was a think from the pump and Sam hung up the nozzle. As he pulled away from the gas station, he only thought of the last time he had talked to Dean, who had been pretty drunk on a pay phone babbling about Cas and some slurred crap...

Who knew Dean would get _that_ torn up over Cas disappearing?

But Sam had no room to talk, he had been keeping to himself, locking himself in his room and just thinking about all the different ways that encounter could have gone.

 _"He was compromised."_

"Dammit, Cas," he muttered. "Where the hell are you?"

* * *

 _Nalah_.

Reminds him of the Lion King, but this most definitely was not a lion. This was a full grown female jaguar watching him have a mild fucking breakdown.

"Maybe if I change my name and become a gay guy -" he shakes his head as he paces fiercely; she just watches, tail thumping slowly on the leaves beneath her. "No, God no," he looks over at her. "Explanation, please?"

She stands and then sits back down. _'I was a human,'_ the voice is coming easier. _'I woke up seven weeks ago as a jaguar in my apartment...'_

"Wait," Dean said. "You're saying this is new for you too," he asked and sighed.

Nalah shook her head, right ear twitching. _'Not new, really...it merely meant that you were ready to meet me.'_ Her eyes softened and she crawled over on her belly towards him. Dean narrowed his eyes and backed away a couple steps. _'I won't...I could not hurt you Dean.'_

Her voice was sad and hurt, hurt that he was rejecting her so quickly and sad that she could not make him him, this was alien and unnatural, _new_. But the moment she had woken up, writhing on her bed and mewling at the strand new sensations and smells. She had been so low to the ground, she thought she had lost her legs but then the mirror...only after copious hours of crying in an odd way in this form, she had blacked out with images of Dean Winchester, knowing his name instantly and knowing his location to the very moment he would be in that diner.

A bond.

Dean gave her a distraught look. He understood familiars, his encounters with Portia and Philipe being the only he had ever had. But the fact still remained that he knew them and they were only paired with witches. Dean knew for a fact he wasn't a witch and wasn't looking to become one.

"I don't understand," he murmured as she stood, big eyes blinking slowly at him; instant trust. "This doesn't..." He paused. "Guess I gotta go find Sam."

Strangely, Dean couldn't even think of her as a woman - bot like he usually did - so there was no after shock only comprehension to what she was saying.

"Sam is in town," she starts, walking down into her little hole on the ground; she reached for her clothes bag. "He's staying in a motel off the main road through town."

He hesitated, watching her wiggle into a pair of frayed jean shorts and a fluorescent green tank top. She smiled back at him as she did so, like he wasn't fighting the instant indifference towards her curvaceous ass...and figure.

"He is," Dean asked and raised an eyebrow.

Nala nodded as she patted down her pockets, like she was looking for something. "He's your _brother_. Did you really think he wouldn't follow you," she asked.

Dean shrugged. "I guess not. Punk never did know when to listen."

Her eyes hardened slightly. "You should be grateful Dean," she stated. "At least you _have_ family left," Nala walked past him towards Baby, a bitterness on her tongue.

Dean rolled his eyes. "Who said you're coming with me," he asked.

She groaned. "I'm _bound_ to you. I go where you go, that's how this works."

"Well the rules are stupid," Dean grumbled, pulling out his keys and walking around to the drivers side. "How'd you know he was in town anyway? Some psychic connection to _him_ too?"

Nalah let out a sharp laugh as she climbed into the Impala, fingertips running over the leather and watching Dean's fingers working the key in. It, the bond, made everything he did - even breathing - so much more fascinating than she would ever find anyone else.

"Nothing like that," she chuckled. "I saw him leaving the motel while I hiked. He offered me a ride. Sweet boy."

"Dumb guy," Dean grumbled, slipping Baby over the subtle bumps leading back to the road. "Doesn' know what he picks up half the time."

"Not fond of strays, hmm," Nalah purred, looking out the window.

Dean scoffed as they smoothed out onto the road, not a soul in sight. "If you saw some of the things he brought home...you'd be cautious, too."

She chuckled and looked forward again. "Red Roof Inn," she informed him. "You know where it is?"

He grunted. "I'm actually booked there," he paused, reaching down to rub his stomach. "I'm hungry again."

She chuckled and he eased on the gas a little, frustration giving him a bit of a lead foot. "He knows about as much as you, maybe more," she paused. "You should be used to strange things happening to you, Dean."

He grumbled and them whispered something under his breath. Did he really think she wouldn't hear that? She decided to tease him a little, not completely serious, and glared at him.

"I heard that," she griped. "Call me House Cat _one_ more time and I will make you fear me more than you do already," she couldn't even if she wanted to, but it was fun because he was genuinely afraid of her.

It also stung a little.

"Who says I'm afraid of you," he barks out a laugh, eyes flickering down to the claws on her fingers. "I'm just...not an animal person, okay? Nothing against ya but...just not my _thing_."

She shrugged, claws retracting slowly; she suppressed a wince at the feeling of her cuticle being torn and stitched together on its own accord. "Understandable," she paused and looked her head towards him, keeping it resting on the headrest. "But I'm not just _any_ animal."

"Touché," he bobbed his head once. "Ya know," he started. "I'm surprised i haven't even had a sniff...I'm allergic to cats."

"Mildly," she chirped. "I can see your eyes slightly bloodshot and watery, you can hardly tell," yeah, she had been staring at his eyes.

"Joy," Dean deadpanned and wiped at his eyes; he supposed it was better than a sneezing fit.

Nalah chuckled and relaxed against the seat. "You should try to be more open minded Dean,' she stated. "It would do you wonders." He rolled his eyes. "I'll make a note of that."

They broke out onto a slightly more busy road and considering the width and the many buildings lining the road, it was main street and he turned left, headed towards the big neon sign fashioned into a red barn. Place was decent but a bit too sleezy, even for Dean.

They pulled into the parking lot which was relatively empty and Dean smirked at the little raggedy ass car in the lot, knowing full well it was the type of car Sam would steal.

"Room 13," Nalah drawled as she slid out of the car, squinting at the sun.

"How deep were you watching him," Dean questioned as he killed the engine.

She leaned against the tip of the cars hood and waited for him. "I'm just observant," she paused. "It was my job before I woke up as a familiar."

Dean snorted as they started towards the motel room. "Peeping Tom's anonymous?"

She whipped her head towards him. "I don't talk about it, okay," she quipped. "I was not a peeping tom, if you must know. Just leave it at _it was my job_."

He held up his hands. "Okay, okay," she took in a calming breath as he rasped his knuckles on the door. "Just never hear anyone say they had a creepier job than mine."

Nalah rolled her eyes. "Just get over it," she grumbled just as Sam opened the door.

He spared a moment to give both Dean and Nalah an odd look, though he seemed to have known Dean would end up here at the door. _How many time ahad this happened,_ Nalah wondered.

"Dean," hw said flatly.

"Sam," Dean said, a slight edge to his tone. "What the hell are you doing here?"

Sam rolled his eyes. "Keeping an eye on your idiot ass, what else," he glanced at Nalah. "Who's the chick?"

"The one that's _actually_ been keeping an eye on him," she wiggled past him and Dean just nudges Sam out of the way.

"Doesn't _really_ answer my question," Sam hums, staring intently at Dean, who is going through the fridge like it hasn't been weeks since contact.

Dean looks up for a moment, peers at Nalah - who is flicking through the tv - and then shrugs. "She can speak," is all he says.

She grins at Sam, leaning back on one arm. "Remember me, stranger," she cooes. "Tried ta offer me a ride the other day? Names Nalah."

Sam bobs his head once. "Sam," he mutters gruffly, looking back to Dean as he flops down beside Nalah on the bed. "Still, why are you with Dean?"

Dean shrugs and so does she, a mimic Sam finds odd. "Turns out I have a familiar now," Same eye rows disappear into his hairline at Deans words. "Cool, huh?"

Sam gives a hesitant nod. "But...you're not a witch." He stated and sat down on the other bed.

"I know that Sam," Dean grumbled and Nalah grinned.

"He's very frustrated about all this," she stated matter of factly and rolls her head. "You really should just accept it Dean."

"Ya know," Dean bites out. "It doesn't _really_ help me accept it the more ya say it."

Nalah shrugged, looking up at Sam. "As much as I now unconditionally love this fucker here," Dean swats away her hand as she pokes him in the stomach. "Do you know anyway that we can maybe get our old lives back?"

San hesitated. "Maybe," he paused. "You had a life before this?"

Her brow furrowed as she sat up fully. "Uh, yeah," she watched him walk over to a computer on the table near the back of the motel room. "Why are you so shocked by that?"

Sam shrugged. "No one knows for sure if familiars are born with the abilities or if they just come when they're needed," Sam plopped down in the chair and immediately started typing. "Maybe you needed her."

"Need her," Dean asked incredulously. "I don't need _another_ babysitter. I already have you."

Nalah frowned, eyes watching Dean's chest rise and fall in annoyance.. She couldn't deny that his words hurt a little, it was basically telling her that he didn't need her.

Sam frowned. "I think you hurt her feelings," he commented and went back to typing. "You got to be-" Dean turned to look at Nalah, taking in the now guarded eyes and deep frown. "Ah fuck," he mumbled and flopped back on the bed. "I hate my life."

"Well," Nalah mumbled. "Luckily you have two people who care about your life," she paused. "I'm sorry about this arrangement. Really. I have my own life I left behind."

"Spying on people," Dean murmured, covering his eyes with his arm.

Nalah grit her teeth and jabbed her human nails into his thigh. He grunted and uncovered his eyes to glare at her. She just pulled her hand away and jumped to her feet, wandering over to a clueless Sam.

"Anything," she pried, eyes scanning over the images on the screen, of old cave paintings of bulls morphing into men and the sphinx.

"Nope." Sam sighed and, after another moment of typing, he shut the laptop. "I think we might have to bring Cas in on this," he said, glancing at Dean.

Dean groaned and threw an arm over his eyes. "Do you have to?"

Nalah rolled her eyes. "If you want answers you _hard-head_ then yes," she chirped. "He's an angel, he knows more than most."

Dean raised his arm to glare at her. "How do you know about Cas," he asked, eyes narrowed.

She sighed, shrugging a little. "All supernatural creatures are aware of each others existence," she rubbed her arms up and down self consciously. "On some level at least," Nalah paused. "Besides, it isn't hard to guess who you're talking about, going by rumors among the community of freaks anyway."

Dean groaned and slid off of the bed. Not what he signed up for...he didn't even _sign up_ for a familiar. But maybe Sam was right, maybe he needed her to help find Cas. Would explain a lot. Okay, maybe not a lot but a smidgen and that was all he needed.

Dean sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Well," he popped his lips at the end, placing both hands on his hips. "We gotta find that jackass first."

"You think he's around here," Sam questioned, brow ever furrowed. "We haven't heard from him in awhile."

Dean nodded. "I've done enough questioning around here to know he's gotten a little sloppy and a man in a trench and full suit has been sighted at the graveyard on the other side of town."

"Why a graveyard," Sam questioned as he stood; Nalah side stepped his obliviousness to her.

Dean shrugged. "Maybe its Novak's memories and he's paying respects? I don't know man. We just gotta stake out the place."

"I can do that," Nalah chirped.

"Yeah right," Dean started and her face dropped. " _You're_ staying _here_."

Nalah glared at him, pupils flickering towards amber slits for a moment. "I'm your _familiar_ not your slave, Dean Winchester," she snarled and slammed out of the room.

Sam groaned and rubbed a hand over his face. "Do you have to be a dick all the time," he asked, zipping up his laptop case

"Maybe,"Dean grumbled and went to open the door.

He was surprised to see that Nalah was gone, not a trace of her in sight. He craned out the door, sweeping right and left, seeing not even a trace of spots in the trees.

"Shit," he breathed, leaving the door open but pulling back into the room.

"What now," Sam whined.

"She's gone," Dean griped within a sigh.

The look Sam gave him wasn't shocked or disbelief, it was reprimanding. "You know she's going alone, right?"

Dean nodded, rubbing the back of his neck. "What I figured," he paused to look at Sam, frowning at the look he was still giving him. "What," he griped.

"Stop being so mean to her," Sam shook his head. "Here for _twenty minutes_ and I can already tell how damn rude you are towards her. She just wants to help."

"I don't even know her, Sam," Dean growled. "I was just minding my own business at a diner and she shows up, somehow _convinces_ me into the woods and turns into a fucking _jaguar_! I have no magic blood and I have a familiar, you're not suspicious about her or the whole situation _at all_?"

"No, Dean. Not really," Sam said, giving his brother an exasperated look. "She's not doing us or anyone any harm and you still act like a complete ass towards her," he grabbed his jacket and made for the open door. "Come on."

Dean raised an eyebrow. "What? Where," he asked.

"The graveyard you idiot," Sam growled and dragged him along behind him. "I'll even let you drive."

"Oh I know you will," that was probably one of the dumbest things he had ever said but he still rolled with it.

"You're stupid," was the best come back Sam could come up with.

Dean shrugged him off and palmed his keys, refraining from jerking open the car door, Sam did the same. "I get it okay," he said over the top of the car and Sam stopped. "I get that maybe I should be nicer to her but with everything that's happened _between_ us and _to_ us and _because_ of us...can't blame me for being extra cautious."

"I can still hold it against you for being a complete jerk," Sam groused and pulled a familiar bitch face. "Lets _try_ and get there before she does," he stated and leaned back against the seat.

"Fine," Dean rumbled and started the engine before easing out of the parking lot. "You think Naomi is still following Cas," Dean asked after a few minutes.

"Almost definitely," Sam answered.

"Then we'll have to deal with her too," Dean grumbled as they started down main street at a slow crawl; lunch rush. " _Great_."

Sam sighed and leaned back, head rocking back and forth. "Why'd you follow her out into the woods?"

Dean sighed, glaring forward instead of at his brother. "I don't know...something said it was okay. I've handled worse than whatever she can throw at me so I figured no harm."

"Right," Sam raised an eyebrow. "And if she had shifted and attacked you," he asked.

Dean shrugged. "I would've shot her I guess," he hummed under his breath. "Finally," he murmured when traffic seemed to pick up.

"You chose to leave right then," Sam reminded him. "Could have waited a little bit."

"Shut up," they couldn't have, what if Cas was gone by the time they decided to leave if they went slow? "Besides, Nalah went out there and I don't need her to fuck anything up."

"She seems to be able to handle herself."

Dean gave Sam a weird look. "You got a _crush_ on her or something?"

Sam sighed and rubbed a hand down his face as Dean turned off across an old thrift shop. "No, Dean, I'm just -"

Dean barked out a laugh, eyes following the sign pointing towards the graveyard. "You _do_ have a crush on her," he chuckled. "I knew it!"

"Shut up," Sam snapped. "We're here," he murmured, feeling the air tense. "Feel that?"

"Yeah," Dean murmured.

They parked a decent distance from the gate, The only sound the slamming of the Impala's doors. Dean looked around as they slowly crunched over the rocks littering the path, fingers itching towards his gun. Sam didn't really seem worried, which was odd, but Dean didn't really care right now.

There was definitely no reaction when the oversized jaguar stepped out onto the path in front of them. Her tail swayed lazily behind her and she didn't approach, they just stared.

She let out a weird mix of a mewl and a growl before turning right and slinking back into the trees. Dean sighed and shook his head, walking a little faster now that he knew what was watching them.

"Well this is gonna be a fucking adventure," he grumbled.


End file.
